At first glance, it’s easy to separate health problems into neat little boxes — heart disease over here, violence over there, poverty somewhere in between. But life doesn’t work that way. Beneath the surface, everything is connected.
Experts like Professor Wendel Abel from The University of the West Indies are sounding the alarm: the scars left by childhood trauma don’t just stay hidden in the mind. They show up in the body too — in the form of diabetes, strokes, heart failure, and lung diseases, some of the biggest killers in our society today.
It begins when a child’s sense of worth is shattered — often by those meant to protect them. Emotional neglect, physical abuse, or simply growing up without enough care can corrode a young person’s confidence. Later, many turn to smoking, heavy drinking, and drugs in an attempt to numb the lingering pain — all while knowing the risks.
The consequences reach even further. When young people grow up feeling invisible or powerless, society often feels the impact: crime rates rise, social trust breaks down, and a cycle of self-destruction is handed down from one generation to the next.
And yet, we still don’t seem to grasp the full weight of the problem. In too many Jamaican communities, children are left to fend for themselves, sometimes raised by parents who were never taught how to nurture, only how to punish. Some children miss weeks, even months of school, not just because of poverty, but because no one at home believes it’s important enough to fight for.
Fixing this won’t be easy. It requires more than a few policy tweaks — it demands a cultural shift. It calls for rekindling the spirit of initiatives like the long-abandoned “values and attitudes” programme, which aimed to inspire pride, empathy, and respect in everyday life.
Thankfully, there are signs of hope. In Norwood, St James, a community once synonymous with violence, residents recently celebrated an entire year without a single murder. That incredible achievement was fueled by more than policing; it came from targeted social investments and mentorship programmes that gave young people better choices and new visions for their future.
Government programmes are critical. But real change also lies in the quiet, everyday choices of ordinary citizens — the decision to lend a hand, mentor a teenager, or simply speak life into a child who feels forgotten.
Small gestures can echo across generations. One act of care today could be the reason a young person chooses hope tomorrow.
